


To Tie A Gordian Knot

by Fuzzy_Carpet



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Canon Compliant, Dom/sub, Ficlet, Japanese Rope Bondage, Kinbaku, M/M, Male Slash, Orgasm Delay, Power Play, Sex Toys, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzy_Carpet/pseuds/Fuzzy_Carpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> <em>The Comedian issues a dare, and Ozymandias finds a truth.</em>  Slight spoilers for book-verse backstory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Tie A Gordian Knot

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [](http://bond-girl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bond-girl.livejournal.com/)**bond_girl** , for fluffing this pillow of a story up high with her insightful beta work.

 

 

_"The strongest and most effective force in guaranteeing the long-term maintenance of power is not violence in all the forms deployed by the dominant to control the dominated, but consent in all the forms in which the dominated acquiesce in their own domination."   ---   Robert Frost_

 

 

 

 * * * * *

 

 

"Oh yeah, smart guy?"  The stench of his tobacco breath is overpowering, yet I maintain my composure.  He dangles a pair of police-issue handcuffs before my eyes, barely able to suppress a chuckle.  Even now, in the face of my greatness, I was still just a joke to him.

"Prove it."

Of course he would come to me.  Or rather, come _for_ me.  It was no secret that I had amassed a wealth of expertise over the years, having studied a variety of books and films dedicated to the very subject at hand.  And the practice of said arts with a skilled and willing partner proved to be a most pleasing enterprise, for the most part.

But pleasure takes many forms.  And of all the forms I knew, there was one guaranteed to cause him not only the most discomfort, but the most shame.

How _perfect._ I alone was capable of causing The Comedian shame.  And if in the end, this becomes the only thing about me that commands his respect, then so be it.

"As you wish."

It was enough to bring us to this point.  The rest is up to him.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

My gloved fingers tangle in the thicket of hair in his armpit, and he shudders, spitting out another stream of curses as he struggles within my artfully-tied _kinbaku_ ropes.

"Silence," I say, wrapping the black silken cord that snakes around his erection even tighter.  Already he has forgotten the terms of our agreement.  "'Crouching Samurai, His Sword Unsheathed' is a very advanced position, a technique worthy of a Grand Master.  You should be honored."

 _"Fuck_ you and your honor, you _faggot!"_ He growls.  "Let me go!"

Now it was my turn to laugh at his insistence.  "Wrong answer."

Dockland swims into view, our past overlapping the present in my mind's eye, and I watch my hands move as if from a great distance.  The brine of sea air becomes the salt of a man's sweat; the chime of dock bells echo in the clink of handcuffs against a metal headboard.  Not his body blanketing mine this time; oh no.  Not his fists pummeling me, overpowering me, his blunt remarks years later cutting me down to the quick.

I have finally become a man to be reckoned with.  And tonight, I have the upper hand.

On his back, restrained like this, he is like a wild stallion, harnessed against its will to the front of a warrior's chariot.  Lips foaming around the bit between its teeth, all instinct and fury as it barrels mindlessly onward.  I try to reign him in once more but still he resists, so I draw out my most secret weapon.  A rare find excavated from an Egyptian temple; a solid gold representation of that which drives mankind to the brink of madness.  Made for a queen, now wielded by a king.  It slides into him with an ease that betrays his experience, and as I rock it back and forth against his gland the sculpture works its ancient magic.  The initial shock quickly turns to surprise.  His cock swells, his hips buck.  I know the exquisite sensation all too well.

My nipples harden beneath their kevlar and rubber prison but I restrain myself, clenching my teeth and willing the ripple of excitement to subside.  One must never surrender to baser needs when exacting discipline.

His eyes roll heavenward as his mouth falls open, but instead of a gull's keening cry there comes a demon's howl, a lustful counterpoint to the fresh sheen of sweat that makes his naked body glow amber in the lamplight.  He thrashes his head from side to side, moaning, straining mightily against jute and titanium.  And when his spine arches past the breaking point I throw caution to the wind, shoving the phallus in all the way to the root.

 _"PLEASE!"_ He screams.

If only he was younger, _purer,_ not so much a blood-soaked tool but a man unspoiled, I might truly have him.

But I am not John.  I cannot unravel the tangled web of past history any more than I could turn this brute soldier into a savior.  All I can do is learn.  Learn, grow, move forward, eliminate all obstacles in my way.  Destroy my enemies from the inside out if need be.  It is a lonely path I travel, true...but the price I pay for knowledge is a small one.  There are far greater glories that await me at journey's end.  I know this.  It gives me solace when nothing else will.

There might be some solace in his climax too, but I doubt he will find it.  He looks so helpless now, caught in the first throes of his own blinding orgasm, and as I finally pull the binding loose I watch his freed organ pump against his belly, painting his scarred flesh with gouts of pearly white.  There is so much of it that I think it might never end.  I drag a fingertip through the pooling slick and bring it to his cheek, tracing where the deep gouge on his face meets the corner of his mouth.  His drool mixes with his tears, runs down his stubbly chin.  He doesn't seem to care.

The Comedian's breath is ragged, his eyes dark and heavy...and for the first time in a long while I am truly satisfied.

 

 

* * * * *

 

I watch his reflection in the tall windows while I wait patiently for my car to arrive.  The evidence of what transpired here hardly shows on him, save for a deep red bracelet that circles one wrist.  He rubs at the welt, chewing absently on what remains of his Montecristo while sitting on the edge of the sofa.

"What if I say that I want to do that again?"  There's something raw in his voice as he says this; just the barest hint of emotion cutting through the screen of cigar smoke. I turn to face him.

He meets my stare -- fearless, unmasked -- and dares ask, "Would you?"

Would I?

At last.  The reins are firmly in my grasp.  I hold them fast, and smile as I answer, "No."

 

 

 

_~finis~_

 

 

 

_*** For more information about the ancient Japanese art of rope bondage, aka kinbaku, see here:<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_bondage> (NSFW)_

 


End file.
